Already Gone
by Lyrical-Escapades
Summary: Spock's Gone, Jim's slowly losing his mind. Rating may change with later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Another something something I'm whipping up. Its Jim/Spock, but nothing too serious for a while yet. :] Reviews are extremely welcome!!**

* * *

All he had wished for was a vacation. He didn't want universal peace; he didn't want a double cheese burger with all the works [because Bones refused to let him eat anything that dripped in complete, utter goodness]. No. He wanted a vacation. So when he opened his eyes to find himself sitting on an isolated beach, crystal clear water lapping at his feet, he must admit he was surprised.  
"Jim?"  
Squinting his eyes, he turned his head and lifted his hand to shield the sun. Spock seated himself in the sand next to his Captain, clad in uniform Science blues and black slacks. Not very beach-y attire, Jim thought with a grin.  
"You are smiling." Spock commented, gazing out at the ocean. He rather enjoyed the way the waves swelled and crashed onto the shore. There was something oddly calming about it. Not that he was complaining.  
"Well, you know how to get me to relax." Jim stretched out, lying on his back with his hands behind his head. His eyes were closed as he took in the heat the sun offered. They had been away from earth for years. Besides the aforementioned cheeseburger he wanted to feel the familiar warmth Earth's sun had to offer. This was a very close second.

Spock was quiet for a few minutes. "I do wonder, Captain—"  
"Jim." A quick interjection.  
"Right… I do wonder, _Jim_. What brought on this sudden need to, in a sense, get away from the ship? You do realize you have an early morning shift in eleven hours and forty-one minutes, correct?"

Jim sighed, sitting up. Sand fell from his hair and the back of his shirt as he glared pointedly at his First Officer. "Do you need to remind me? We're having a moment, Spock. A nice moment, and I don't want to think about how I have a shift in twelve hours—"  
"Eleven hours and thirty—"  
"Spock!" Jim slapped a hand over his eyes, falling backwards again, dramatically. "You're missing the point!"  
"Then enlighten me, wouldn't you?" came the even-toned reply.

Jim heaved a sigh, moving to put his arm over his eyes. The need for explanation all the time was becoming more annoying when it started off adorable. Jim did things for the sake of doing them. If he wanted to touch Spock on the Bridge, by gods he was going to touch Spock on the bridge. If he wanted to take some random little vacation away from the stress of everyday life… well you get the idea! Why on Earth – or any other planet for _that_ matter – would Jim want to explain his every miniscule movement? He felt the sand to his right shift, and then next to his left hip the sand sunk down just slightly. He moved his arm and looked up into Spock's chocolate eyes.  
"I just… needed some time with you." Jim admitted, his heart rate increasing enough to feel like it was thudding hard against his chest. Every time Spock came near him, he reacted like a giddy little school girl. His cheeks flushed and he sometimes stumbled over his words.  
"Why did you not mention this earlier?" The Vulcan inquired. "I would have acquiesced to spend some time alone with you."  
"For what? An hour or two playing chess? A few minutes for a quiet conversation? It wasn't enough, dammit." His voice dropped. Suddenly, anxiousness settled deep in his chest. Did he force Spock into doing all this for him? What if the Vulcan was trying to draw away from him? Didn't he like Jim anymore?  
"Jim… Jim, if we are going to have a conversation, please try to stay with me."  
"You don't need to do this anymore." Jim said quietly, pushing against the hard wall of Spock's chest in an attempt to sit up.  
Long fingers wrapped around Jim's hand, making the human gaze up at his Officer again. Spock's eyes had darkened, piercing down into Jim's own. Jim felt the warm breath slide across his jaw and down his neck.  
"I am doing exactly what I wish to be doing."

Oh the great Vulcan assurance method. Not that it made Jim feel any better. His chest tightened and he shook his head, little grains of sand being flung sideways.  
"No, I can't do this to you anymore. I can't just keep asking for you to whisk me away so we can share time together." He barely remembered he was still shaking his head, but he didn't stop. Dammit, he felt an unfamiliar burning in his throat and his vision began to blur. "You have a job to do, and so do I, so if you would just let me up you can drop the meld and get o—" a pair of warm lips pressed against the corner of his mouth and he stopped, drawing in a breath.  
"_T'hy'la._" Spock murmured quietly, pulling away enough to look back into those cerulean baby blues he adored so much. "You talk too much."  
"B-But…"  
"My greatest wish is to make you happy. You are not intruding on my work. So if you think that you are, you would be wise to stop."  
Jim was blinking rapidly, trying to keep the moisture in his eyes – they weren't tears. Captains did not cry. _James T. Kirk. Did. Not. Cry._ "Or what?" he asked.  
"I will have to _prove_ to you that you are wrong."

* * *

They spent several more hours on the beach before Spock separated their minds as gentle as he could. Jim swung his legs heavily over the side of Spock's bed.  
"I should go," He mumbled, standing up. A Vulcan hand reached out to grip the hem of Jim's shirt, but his Captain pulled away. "Have a good night, Spock."

Slow footfalls echoed throughout the room followed by the hiss of the door sliding open, then seconds later closed. Spock stared up at the ceiling, his mind reeling. How could Jim think he cared any less for him? After all they had been through, from the Academy to Nero, and the several other low-key missions they had performed together. Jim was the one who was there when his mother died. He was the one who comforted Spock; let his emotions spill out that one single time he had allowed them to. Indeed their bond had grown stronger, but Jim was pulling away and closing himself off. With no logical reasoning, and quite frankly… it was scaring Spock. Emotion or no emotion, when Jim could not define the reason of his actions, it was unnerving.

* * *

The halls weren't particularly crowded as Jim passed through. His eyes were fixed on the ground as he slid through the halls, vaguely aware of anything around him. He just wanted to feel like he used to. The way his heart leapt whenever Spock gave him a passing glance or when he saw the corners of those Vulcan lips twitch in an effort to contain a smile. He missed passing his First Officer a PADD and intentionally, but secretly out of everybody else's view, skimming his fingertips over Spock's hand. Lately nothing seemed like it was. The smiles faded, or fell on blind eyes. The touches were distant and meaningless. Hell, even when Spock brought their minds together, they were in the same place, but oh-so far apart.

The six digit code was easy enough to put in, letting the door to his quarters slide to his left. He stepped in and once the door slid shut, he leaned back against it, trailing his eyes over the extremely lonely room. A soft light emitted itself from above his bed, illuminating the few things he had in his quarters. Shadows danced along the wall as his shoes were kicked off to the side and he settled himself onto the bed. He stared straight up at the ceiling, his right hand absently groping at the sheets on the opposite side of the bed… Spock's side of the bed. A heart-wrenching noise spilled from his lips as he turned onto his side, gripping the pillow that Spock rested on when he stayed. He brought it to his face, inhaling the spicy, intoxicating scent of his love. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears struggling to break free.

He was losing the one person he loved more than anything in the universe and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter isnt quite as long as the first, but... well, I figured it spoke for itself. :] Reviews = cookies.**

* * *

"_Captain! Captain, Wake up!"_  
Jim groaned into his pillow, flipping it over his head in a feeble attempt to drown out the annoying noise coming from the intercom. He responded eloquently with, "Mrph."  
A more familiar voice took over the com. _"Dammit, Jim, wake up! Spock is __**gone**__!"_

Bones didn't have to tell him twice. Jim launched out of bed, grabbing his Starfleet-issued shirt on his way out. He ran to the Bridge, skidding to a stop as several of his comrade's faces greeted him with a solemn look. Jim quickly put on the rest of his uniform, jamming a hand through his sleep-ridden hair. His eyes darted around the helm in desperate need to find Spock.  
"He's not here, Sir…" Uhura's voice cut through the silence. He spun on his heels to look at her, fear swirling in his eyes like a tornado.  
"No." Jim said. Spock was just late. Late… _Spock?_  
"I went to get him from his room this morning for his shift, and his door was wide open. He wasn't there, Captain." Uhura's voice was on the verge of breaking.

Convulsive shock slammed into Jim, forcing him to sit in his designated chair. He really left. Just like that, it was over. He gripped the armrests of the chair, feeling tremors wracking his body so hard it made his teeth chatter. He stared out the front window, searching like he could see onto every star, every planet trying to find his _T'hy'la_. He couldn't be gone. He was too loyal to Starfleet… but what if he just asked to change vessels? Would Jim have even been informed of such a move? Oh _fuck_, his head was hurting. He felt his stomach pitch and roll, his muscles clenching so tightly they burned.  
"Captain Kirk?" She kept trying to get something out of him. Hell if he knew what it was. He didn't want to think right now.

Jim opened his mouth to speak, but closed it for fear of losing what little food he had been eating. He rose quickly from his seat, leaving as fast as his feet would carry him, darting through the halls down to McCoy's office. Jim slapped his hand on the scanner since he had completely forgotten everything except how to run and where Bones would be. The doors _whoosh_ed open and he staggered in, large tears snaking down his cheeks. Bones looked up from his PADD, startled to see Jim standing there.  
"Where is he?" Jim forced out, visibly shaking from head to toe. He pressed his hand to his temple, shaking his head from side to side as if it would get rid of the swelling discomfort.  
Bones stood up, walking around his desk to guide Jim to a chair, sitting him down. "I don't know." He said quietly.

The edges of Jim's vision were getting darker. He fought off the unconsciousness, gripping Bones' arms in an attempt to latch onto reality. His demons were rising again, clawing at him, trying to slip him into the blackness, the void his mind had created.  
"Jim, we'll find him." McCoy's voice had a serious note to it, something Jim always hated. When McCoy got serious it meant things _were_ serious. This was serious.  
Spock was _gone_.

* * *

How they found their way onboard the Enterprise without being spotted was above and beyond his reasoning. Furthermore, how they had managed to sedate him, bound and gag him and drag him away was even more over Spock's head. He was hanging limply from shackles mounted on a titanium wall. His surroundings were dark, smelled damp and humid, and the only things he heard were the – he assumed – whirring of turbines in the distance and the closer sound of water, or some other liquid, dripping from the pipe across the room. His legs did not feel like his own, they were weak beneath him, trembling like they would if he had run an extremely long distance; but if he tried to kneel, the shackles pulled up on his arms, intensifying the searing pain being emitted from his left side. He deduced ribs must have been broken because he felt nothing wet underneath his Science Blues. Then again, he didn't feel much else except the cool metal squeezing his wrists.

The very last thing he remembered was Jim walking out of his room, obviously distraught over something that was not even happening. Spock had remained in his quarters. He must have drifted off to sleep; otherwise he would have seen or heard his assailants enter the room. The large door to his right opened with a long, creaky groan. A man – he couldn't have been taller than six foot even, Spock noted – stepped in, golden eyes piercing through the darkness.  
"I see you're awake, Mr. Spock."  
"What is your name?" Spock inquired, trying his best to remain on his feet, to not give this monster the satisfaction of knowing he was in pain.  
"For now that is none of your concern. You do, however, know the contents to create Red Matter, do you not?"  
_The same substance that was aboard Nero's vessel?_ "I do not know where you have obtained your information, however I do not know the components to create such a weapon."

The man gave a sharp bark of laughter, stepping forward, closing the gap between them. He smelled of death itself making it difficult for Spock to draw in a breath. He closed his hand around the Vulcan's neck, applying enough pressure so he could breathe, but so he had to struggle to get it.  
"You know how to create it. You will create it. Or I will personally see to it that you never leave this ship alive." He grinned wickedly, flashing razor-sharp, pointed teeth. "You'll never see your precious James Kirk again."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: the third installment :] ReviewsareLove.**

* * *

_Find me._

_Where are you?_

_I am locked away. Find me._

Jim's body jerked, his eyes flying open in shock. He gasped loudly feeling as though he had completely stopped breathing. Bones was over him immediately, shining a bright light in his eyes making his pupils constrict painfully.

He groaned, turning his head away, "Stop it, Bones."  
"Standard procedure. How do you feel?" McCoy helped Jim into a sitting position, giving him a cup of water to soon the burn he knew he was feeling in his throat.  
"Like you hypo-d me without my permission." Jim muttered, lolling his head to both sides. He drank gratefully, downing the glass in seconds.  
Memories flooded back.  
"He really isn't here anymore is he?"  
"That's what we were kinda hoping you would know. Did he say anything; tell you where he was going?"

Jim shot Bones a look. It was the _are-you-fucking-serious_ look. "Do you think I would be this stressed if I _knew_ where he was? He didn't say anything. Hell, the last time I talked to him I… I…" his voice died down. The last time he spoke to the man he didn't even say goodbye. He didn't say 'I love you' or some variation of the term. He just left. Left Spock sitting there as he pulled his body away from the hand that clutched at him, begging him to stay.  
"What have I done?"  
"Well unless you shot him off to Delta Vega in revenge, I don't think you did anything." Bones was getting another syringe ready. "Hold still." He put his hand on the side of Jim's head and before the Captain had any time to protest, quickly injected him.  
Jim cried out, swatting at the older man's arm. "_Dammit_! I hate it when you do that."  
"You'll thank me later when you're finally getting enough sleep." McCoy took a seat next to Jim's bed. "Listen. I hardly think Spock is one to hold a grudge like this, even if you two got into a fight. He would justify it with his logic and move on, right? Something isn't right here."  
Jim gripped the blankets covering his hips to his feet. Everything felt wrong. Bones was right, Spock wasn't one to throw a fit and leave. He requested all of his time off, even if it was some stupid amount of time [like the ten minutes he requested being late because him and Jim were fooling around]. Something happened. "Did anybody check surveillance?"  
"All communication and video to his quarters were out for several hours. That's what we're assuming to be the time he left."  
"Or got taken," Jim offered, his eyes darting back and forth over the blue-gray coverlet like the answers were written in some indecipherable language. "We should have heard the alarms."  
"There were no alarms, Jim, so how the hell did they get him off the ship without anybody noticing?"

How the hell was he supposed to know? It's not every day James T. Kirk storms aboard another Federation vessel and kidnaps one of its crew members. This was something beyond what they had come across before, newer technology or an advanced species. They had to figure something out. They had to get Spock back.

* * *

Spock hypothesized he had be aboard the enemy ship for a little over half a day now. His body was screaming at him to get into a more comfortable position, which was completely impossible. He tried tugging on the chains, surprised when a few more links came out of the wall. It wasn't until he heard a distinctive _click_ and an electric discharged coursed through his body that he realized he was in a very bad position. Spock sank his arm back into place, letting the chains slide back into the wall and only then did the electrocution stop. Breathing was more difficult. He vaguely wondered if a broken rib had punctured his lung, but he had no way of knowing and in his current state, assessing his own injuries was just as hard as preventing the next one that would happen.

An estimated hour after he had spoken with who he believed to be the Captain, two larger creatures stalked into the room. One unchained his hands and legs, letting Spock drop the floor. The other brought his foot up, slamming it down onto his shoulder, effectively dislocating it from its socket. Spock gave up being silent as he let out a deafening cry that rose above the laughter of the two men who took nothing but enjoyment out of seeing the Vulcan suffer. Prayers of mercy raced through his thoughts while he writhed on the floor, gripping his arm tightly to his chest. Black nothingness crept over his vision and it took him no time at all to succumb to the relief of oblivion.

* * *

"_I like you." Jim admitted finally, his blood rising to his cheeks, coloring them a faint pink. _

_Spock gave him a meaningful look and what passed as a smile for his race. The younger man was looking at the floor of his own room, like something spectacular was happening at that very moment when they both knew full well there was nothing. Spock placed one long finger beneath Jim's chin, tilting his head up effortlessly.  
"While I am very flattered you feel that way, Captain…" He started, noting the frantic look Jim got in his eyes. He must have sounded like he was about to reject Jim's feelings, "If I may be so bold, I have to admit I feel more than just… a _liking_ towards you."_

_Stark relief washed over Jim. He accepted. Spock didn't push him away or look down on him. There was nothing but pure adoration and acceptance coming from him. Jim couldn't contain himself as he threw his arms around the Vulcan's neck, dragging their bodies together for the first time.  
"You have no idea how much of a fucking relief this is." He muttered into the green-tinted neck. Spock's arms snaked their way around Jim's slender torso. He had no intention of letting this man go, in this lifetime or the next._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Much thanks to Sanzy for all her encouragement :D**

* * *

Jim awoke in his own room, beneath his own covers on his own bed. Alone. That word rang through his head like an annoying alarm clock signaling him to wake up. He had given Bones the order to have every available personnel on deck review footage of Spock's wing, and for Bones himself to check out Spock's room to see if there had been anything left behind, evidence, clues. Terror never let go of his heart no matter how hard he willed it away. Something bad had happened and Jim didn't know who or what caused it, but they took what was most precious to him.

A few more minutes of thought turned into an hour before Bones' voice slid through the room over the intercom.  
_"Jim, are you up?"_  
"Yeah," he responded, sitting up to rub his hand over his face. He was getting stubble. Now that wasn't acceptable. "Did you find anything?"  
_"The footage revealed nothing. But they left a note clear as day on his bed."_  
A note? Like, a ransom note… seriously, what Stardate is this? "Can you tell who it's from?"  
_"Come down to my office, I'm not doing this over the com." He was getting irritated.  
_"Alright alright, I'll be there in ten. Kirk out." He severed the connection and rose to his feet.  
They had it. Something that would bring Spock back home. Maybe he was getting too ahead of himself. They had something, that's for sure, but Jim hadn't even seen it yet. Maybe it was just some stupid note that said "Ha ha, we took your First Officer, you idiot." Jim went into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face, determined to compose himself before he left the room. His crew was already on edge as it is; _no point in looking like you've lost your mind, too._ He thought. After a quick shave, he adorned standard black pants and mustard color tunic before heading out to meet Bones.

* * *

"Uhura said it was a distinctive ancient dialect, or something, from a race known as Son'a. They're descendants of the Ba'ku people, but they're rebels, they insist on gaining higher technology instead of hanging back in the past with mere hand to hand weaponry."  
Blue eyes dragged over the extremely alien symbols. "What does it say?"

Bones took a shot of something dark amber, setting the glass back on the table. "'We've taken Ambassador Spock. The Red Matter will be ours, whether he lives or dies.' And that's it."  
_Red Matter? That was the black hole stuff that destroyed Vulcan…_ This whole time-travelling, I'm-from-another-universe stuff was making Jim's head swim. They thought he was Spock Prime too. "What if the… Sunna?"  
"Son'a." Bones corrected.  
"Right, them. What if they were talking to Nero, like working together with them?"  
"The Romulans were from a completely different time, Jim. How would they come to this Stardate and find an ally so willing to cooperate without destroying them first?"  
Jim shook his head, glaring at the paper still clutched in his hands. _I need answers_. His mind was yelling at the paper. _Where is Spock!_  
_I am locked away.  
Find me._

He dreamed of somebody calling out for help, but he saw nothing but white. A frantic voice surrounded him, calling for help. A voice locked away, out of sight. Jim tried to reason with it, saying he couldn't find whoever it was. But it was the same answer. _I am locked away. Find me._ His heart thudded dully in his chest, letting Jim know that he was still prone to anxiety and he was on the verge of a very bad panic attack.  
"Jim, hey, look at me." Young, frantic blue eyes met older, calmer blue. "Don't you start this or I'm gonna jab you in the neck again."  
Jim waved his hand absent, glancing off to the side for a brief second before looking back at Bones. "It hurts." He whispered.  
Bones nodded, pouring Jim a shot glass full of what he just drank himself. "Not that I advise drinking your problems away, but here." He used the back of his fingers to push it towards Jim.

Jim took it, bringing it to his lips, downing it in one chug. He sucked a breath in through his teeth, hissing at the burning it created in his throat. "Another." Sliding the glass back to McCoy, Jim leaned back into the chair. They spent the rest of the day succumbing to the intoxicating effects of McCoy's secret Bourbon stash he hid beneath his desk.

* * *

_Day two…_ Spock wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to endure the excruciating pain in his arm. Twice now he's woken just to reel back into the obscurity from the sheer magnitude of agony that tore through him. Several times he had slipped to his knees, rewarding whoever was listening with a scream-inducing shock. His wrists were raw and bleeding, the smell of scorched skin invaded his senses causing his gut to tighten and his eyes to burn. He attempted to once go into a meditative state, but was cut short by one of the large goons from before yanking his head up by his hair, snarling, what sounded to him like a death threat, in a language he did not recognize.  
He lost track of time before the Captain of this ship came back in, heavy boots clunking over steel floors. "Have you thought about what we discussed?"  
"I am not… who you are searching for." Spock wheezed out, eyes darker, menacing. "I do not know how to create Red Matter."  
"That's a shame, Spock. Because we were told by a very reliable source that you were who we needed. So either… he is lying, or you are." The man bent at his waist, challenging Spock's steady glare. "I'm willing to bet he is telling the truth."  
The Vulcan wanted to lunge forward, wrap his fingers around this creature's neck and squeeze the absolute life out of him. A thought he would put aside for later.  
"You are merely wasting your time on me. I do not know how to create it. So will you torture me until I die? If I am lying, and you proceed to kill me, you will never acquire what you need. Am I correct?"

The Captain gave a long, hearty laugh. "You don't seem to realize the situation you have found yourself in, Spock. You do not hold the upper hand here, I do. Everything my men do to you, or you do to yourself," his eyes flicked up at Vulcan wrists then back to eyes, "Is the bare minimum. You will give me the secret to Red Matter. After all, it destroyed your planet, did it not? You must know the secret behind something so utterly… _devastating._" He left the same as he did last time, grinning wickedly and laughing.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks for all the positive feedback! :] Im having fun writing this. :D Reviews are full of Love. Enjoy!!**

* * *

_The two lay gasping for air, Spock on his back, arm around the one he now called _T'hy'la_. The younger man rested his head upon the Vulcan's chest, warm breath slipping over his skin like satin, doing more arousing than calming. Long fingers ran their way through Jim's hair, down to his neck, possessively stroking over his wildly beating pulse.  
"That was… so…" Jim shook his head, turning to press his forehead against the crook of Spock's neck.  
"Very satisfactory." Spock murmured, enjoying the calmness in his mind. Jim turned his head to graze his teeth over Spock's collarbone. "I presume we are not finished?"  
Jim make a noise somewhere between a laugh and a grunt as he pressed his hips closer to Spock, letting the older man feel what he did to him again. They had just finished the most mind blowing sex session and still Jim wasn't sated. He wanted more, craved more and Spock was the only man who could give it to him.  
"I want all of you all the time. You are mine, nobody else's." Jim's husky voice sent a small shiver of anticipation racing down his First Officer's spine. "Say it."  
"I am yours." An agreement from between clenched teeth was all Jim needed to start over again._

* * *

Darkness settled around him and his own breathing was the only comfort he had of knowing he was still alive. The bourbon wore off, leaving a burning sensation in his chest, a disgusting taste on his tongue and he longed for Spock. Tiny whimpers escaped him as he clutched Spock's pillow to his chest. He hated feeling like this. He was absolutely useless, he couldn't concentrate. Everybody knew why, but they all kept quiet, not saying a word and only offering condolences through their expressions. But he hated their sympathy.

They needed to make their way to Ba'ku. Hell, they needed to do a lot of things, but their main priority was to get Spock back aboard the enterprise and, for all Jim cared, destroy those who separated him from his home in the first place. Jim rolled over, sitting up to swing his legs over the bed. He slammed his hand down on the intercom, entering an access code so he could talk to the entire U.S.S. Enterprise.  
"Attention, this is Captain Kirk addressing all persons aboard the ship. As of… we'll say 0700 yesterday morning, Commander Spock was taken from is quarters to, where we believe, Ba'ku – a normally peaceful planet but with some hostile aliens. I am issuing an order to this planet at Maximum warp. Our estimated time of arrival is ten hours, twelve minutes. I need all Officers on full alert by 0600 tomorrow. This is a rescue mission." His voice dropped an octave. "Let's bring him home." He ended the transmission, putting his face in his hands. How was he supposed to be the backbone of this vessel when he was completely and utterly broken? They hadn't even come across an alien of this race and he was already terrified of them.

* * *

He didn't sleep a wink before he was walking the overly crowded corridors. Dark circles gave away his exhaustion, but he refused to look anybody but Bones in the eye as he spoke. He knew the sympathetic looks would send him over the edge, whether that mean he'd turn into a sobbing mass on the floor, or his fists would start flying, pissed off as the day he was beat down in the bar. He sat in the Captain's chair, Bones standing to his left. He needed somebody who completely understood what was running through his mind, and of course McCoy offered that and so much more.  
"Captain, arrival at Ba'ku in three minutes."  
"Thank you, Sulu. Lieutenant Uhura, if we are haled, put them up on the screen immediately. They are most likely going to be wondering why a ship from the Federation is suddenly arriving."  
"Aye, Sir." Empathy laced her tone, making Kirk wince slightly. Bones placed a strong hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, reassuring him that he wasn't alone.

Sulu gave a warning before they dropped out of warp, steadily drifting towards a large yellow-red planet. As Jim requested, the window to the world across from them turned into the tan, alien face of, who Jim assumed, to be their leader.  
"State your name." He wasn't demanding, more curious than anything.  
"My name is Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise. We have come here today in search of our comrade, Commander Spock, who we believed to have been captured by a resident of your planet." He watched the reaction set into the leaders face.  
"My name is Ambassador H'ano. You are welcome to come down for a meeting to discuss this matter."  
Jim nodded his head, "Thank you. We will see you in a few moments." The screen went blank and Jim stood. "Bones, you're coming with me. Sulu, take the helm. Chekov, keep an eye on us."  
"Aye, Captain." Came the response as he led McCoy from the Bridge to the Transport Bay.  
"So far so good," Jim breathed, standing beside Bones before the two men energized and were beamed down onto their foreign destination.

* * *

Desperation set in whenever the large door scraped open. Spock was so used to being in the dark now, any ounce of light felt like somebody took a bat to the middle of his forehead. He tried clinging to the fond memories he had aboard the Enterprise, the crew, the missions. His Captain. Every thought was interrupted with some steady throb of pain and somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew this was it. This was going to be the place that his life ended whether he gave them what they required or not.

"Are you ready to confess?"  
Silence was the answer. The counter-reply was a swift slap to the side of his face. "You will _answer_ me when I speak to you!"  
He had no idea if his plan was going to work. But he had to try. "Yes, I am ready. But you will need to fix my arm in order for this to work." The Captain stepped up, unlocking his arms and legs, letting Spock drop to the floor with a painful thud. Spock bit back his cries, not wanting to give this… filth the enjoyment of hearing him in pain. He was hauled up and drug to a laboratory that did not have the necessary items to create such a weapon.

"You will be issued the tools you need. You will be under constant monitoring." The Captain grasped Spock's dislocated arm, grinning viciously. "The consequences will be dire." He gave his arm a sharp twist and pull, resetting back in its proper place. Spock cried out, gripping his arm like it would stop the pain from coursing through his system. His breath came out in ragged pants as he put his head on the cool metal surface of his work station. This was wrong, all wrong.  
If all went according to his calculations, he would be able to send out a message to the Enterprise which would give them his coordinates… Spock refused to think about what would happen if he failed.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I needed to step this up a bit, so as of this chapter, we are officially in _M_ status ;] Enjoy. Reviews for Cookies. :D**

* * *

They stepped onto the planet and a familiar feeling came over Jim. He felt like he was back on Earth on a perfect spring day. The sun was shining bright in the only abnormal thing he could see, the pale green sky. It almost looked like—

"We welcome you to our humble home. Please, follow me." It wasn't the ambassador, but they followed the man who had the same dark, caramel colored skin. Bones looked around the surroundings; to him it looked like Iowa. It was all deserted, barren, a few buildings out in the distance and a very large temple-looking structure directly ahead of them. They walked for almost half an hour until they reached the front entrance, large wooden, bronze-trimmed doors that stood several stories tall eased open to allow them inside. Jim nodded to the two guards and continued to follow the anonymous man into a very business-like room. He and Bones took a seat on the closest side of the very long, glass table, directly across from who Jim recognized as the Ambassador.

"Welcome to Ba'ku, friends. While your appearance is most unusual, we do hope we can help you with your current situation."

Jim swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thank you for your hospitality." [Bones' inwardly grinned, not accustomed to seeing Jim so… so formal.] "Several days ago, one of my crew members, Commander Spock, was taken from the U.S.S. Enterprise. A note was left…" He fished it out of his pocket, never having let it go, and handed it over to Ambassador H'ano. He paused in his statement, letting the man read over the script.

"Oh… dear, I am so sorry." His eyes were scanning over the page again and again. "This writing is similar to our Rogue descendants, the Son'a. They are a very hostile people, sometimes I wonder myself how we are even related. This Red Matter he speaks of: is this a weapon of some kind?" Jim nodded; H'ano made a low noise, one of discontent. "Then I am really not surprised this has happened. Once the Son'a people hear about a new weapon they immediately alert their Captain, Ru'afo and look into it." Jims head was swimming with all the different names. Hopefully Bones was taking notes… quick sideways glance confirmed it, thank gods. "Can you explain what Red Matter does, exactly?"

Jim explained briefly, summing up the Nero experience in roughly ten minutes. "Do you know where their ship is? I need to find my f— My First Officer." His throat felt tight. "Please, any assistance you can offer…"  
He never thought he would get an answer he was looking for. Not only did Ambassador H'ano give them the galaxy they were currently in, but he gave a rough estimate as to what star they would be around. Their tracking devices only went so far until they started to have glitches, and the one placed on Ru'afo's ship before it departed went off mere hours before the Enterprise had shown up. Jim's entire disposition lifted just a bit. _We have a lead…_

They had a lead.

* * *

Thirty-six minutes after his displaced arm was so tenderly replaced, Spock still found his arm to be useless. He was given everything he asked for, absolutely nothing that would create anything remotely like red matter. One of the thugs questioned him about it.

"This is the discharge initiator. I cannot make the required… weaponry without something to contain it in, now can I?" He shot the guard a very pointed, pissed-off-Vulcan look which made the other man grunt and leave the laboratory. His temper was rising from being in constant pain and every little thing was an annoyance. He needed to get the locator up and running so he could send out a discreet signal to the Enterprise. With the way things were going, though, his captors would hear the signal and wonder what he was up to.

But it was the last attempt at freedom. If he did not try something, who knew how long it would be until he received help. He singlehandedly maneuvered the metallic pieces together, using the small welding tool that he held between his teeth to seal it all in place. It was shoddy work at best, but when the tiny green light came to life, so did a spark of hope. He pressed the tiny button on the side and waited. So far, so good. Nobody had suspected anything. Spock kept himself busy, waiting to see if he was going to get away with this.

* * *

"_For gods' sake, don't make me beg."_

But he loved to hear Jim beg. The wordless whimper that rises from his throat as he grasped the one appendage that…  
"Oh, yes! Nnn, keep doing that." Jim tried desperately to raise his hips off the bed, but Spock held them firm. Spock slid his warm hand up and down, up and down, a teasingly slow pace that earned him a few desperate moans and growling swears. He watched anxiously, his own erection throbbing impatiently, demanding to be touched, but he resisted. He was completely intent on watching Jim's face screw up in utter pleasure, his mouth agape as he panted, his hands grasping at the pillows above his head. He felt the blood rush to Jim's hard-on, felt his pulse, the beat of his heart. His thumb slid up underneath the sensitive head and stroked.

Jim lost it, crying out Spock's name as an earth-shattering, gut-wrenching orgasm took hold of his body, pleasure exploding behind his eyes in bright, white stars. Spock kept massaging that bundle of nerves that drove his Captain crazy.

"O-Oh fuuuu-uuuck!" Jim cried out when another orgasm ripped through him. His hips thrashed beneath Spock's hand, causing the Vulcan to let a very uncharacteristic grin grace his lips for a split second.  
He was the only person in the Universe capable of driving Jim insane.  
Jim collapsed back onto the sheets, panting heavily while his eyes closed, a light sheen of sweat covered his body. Spock leaned up, pressing a feather-light kiss to the man's already swollen and abused lips.  
"I love you," Jim breathed.  
"And I, you." Spock replied.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: No flames. This uh. Well. I know what Im doing, so just stick with me okay? I promise!**

* * *

Tension filled the air of the Enterprise. Everybody was on edge, scouring the galaxy for any signal, any kind of sign of their First Officer. Jim had not rested since they left the golden-colored planet and his nerves were in just as many pieces. His leg bounced up and down on the ball of his foot. McCoy had to repeatedly smack his hand away from his mouth worried that instead of chewing off his nails, he'd be biting of an entire digit. He was scanning over every monitor, glancing out the window every few seconds, expecting Spock to dramatically show up in some craft asking to be beamed aboard. His attention was drawn to Chekov who was scanning the near area for any sign of the Vulcan, seeing his hands fly up to the headphones he was wearing. He turned in his chair, wide eyes meeting his Captains.  
"What is it?" Jim flew out of his chair; taking the headphones he was offered. He put them over his ears, pressing in like Chekov did. Disbelief struck him.  
_Dit dit dit, dah dah dah, dit dit dit._ Repeated.

"It's an S.O.S. signal! It's him! Chekov, pinpoint his location, Sulu gets us there _fast_." Jim hit the call for Bones.  
_"This'd better be good," _came the weary reply.  
"We found him. He's been sending out an S.O.S. signal from where ever the hell they have him." His heart started racing, he had to sit, holding his chest. Spock was calling out for help.  
_"I'll be there in a minute."_  
"Sir, we found them," Sulu said. "The ship is massive." He zoomed in, projecting the image onto the front window.  
Jim's eyes narrowed darkly. These were the bastards that took Spock. They had him, and he cried out for the Federation.  
For the Enterprise.  
For _Jim_.

* * *

A terrifying slam echoed throughout the small room Spock was in. As he attempted to turn around to greet his, seemingly upset, guest, the front of his Science Blues were snatched up, dragging his body effortless out of the chair.  
"How the _hell_ did a Federation ship find us out here?!" The Captain, Spock had come to find out his name was Ru'afo, yelled furiously. "What are you making?!"  
Spock just glared back. "You are out of time, Ru'afo."  
"No." he hissed. "No, you've got it backwards." Ru'afo threw Spock into the hard body of one of his large henchmen who effectively dragged him to their Bridge like a ragdoll. Ru'afo was snarling under his breath, determined not relinquish the upper hand to a Federation member. He hailed the Enterprise, his long-nailed fingers digging into the metal beam that crossed in front of him.  
Jim's face lit up the screen before them. Spock stared at him. _T'hy'la._

"This is James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise. We received a distress call from one of our crew members and demand you release him immediately."  
Ru'afo grinned wickedly; his sharp yellow teeth gleamed in the dim light. "James T. Kirk. Just the man I was hoping to speak to." He grabbed a handful of Spock's black hair, yanking him forward. Spock sank down to his knees, raising his head to expose his throat to the screen. Cold steel pressed up against his throat. "Spock here failed to deliver the necessary items for his safe return." The blade Ru'afo held in his hand pressed in farther, drawing out a thin line of green blood that trickled down the hollow of Spock's throat.  
_I was so close…_ Spock's eyes traveled over, meeting Jim's anxious form, his voice desperately trying to stop Ru'afo from acting farther.  
"There is nothing you could have done, Captain." Ru'afo let loose a wicked laughter than rang throughout his Bridge and Kirk's as he sliced the blade straight across Spock's vulnerable neck, letting the man fall to the ground, gasping for air while darkening green blood pooled around him.

* * *

"_Do you remember the first time you said you loved me?" He asked, hands behind his back, a smile as bright as any other adorning his beautiful face.  
" I do believe we were in my quarters playing chess."  
Jim nodded, walking in a slow saunter down the hallway. It was just past midnight so most of the crew was either asleep or at their posts. The hallways were very quiet except for their quiet chatter.  
"And?" Jim pressed.  
"You played a very challenging game which, admittedly, caught me off guard. I had not realized you were practicing without my knowledge. After the game, you pulled me into an embrace—"  
"Oh can't you just say hug?" Jim teased, grinning at the Vulcan.  
"Alright… you hugged me and though I thought it was brief you would not let go. So we stood for a few moments, enjoying each other's company and you whispered that you loved me." _

_Jim gave another nod. Now he was walking backwards to face Spock as he spoke. "And then what happened?" he asked, a curious note in his voice. He was acting like a child learning about the outside world for the first time.  
"I remember wrapping my arms tighter around you, taking in how warm you felt, despite our very different core body temperatures. You kept repeating those words. "I love you". So I drew back just slightly to give you a light kiss to cease your rambling. As I pulled away I replied "I love you, too" and you gave me that trademark lopsided grin._

_Jim laughed from deep in his chest, stopping in front of Spock, forcing him to stop walking as well. Jim tilting his head just slightly to look up at him, the smile never faded.  
"Did you mean it?" He inquired with his arms still behind his back, hands clasped together.  
Spock blinked a couple times, tilting his head just a fraction. "Are you imploring I did not mean what I had said?"  
"Not at all. But did you mean it?"  
"Of course I meant it, Jim. Why would you question that?"  
Jim liberated his hands from one another, reaching up to place them on either cheek of the man before him. "I don't question it." He said before descending his lips upon Spock's own._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I really have nothing to put here XD Im just obsessive compulsive and need to have something bold at the top. Enjoy!!**

* * *

A sickening thud sounded throughout the Bridge as everybody stared in horrified disbelief at what they had just witnessed. Ru'afo made it a point to let the camera linger on the battered body for a moment before ending the transmission.

Without a word, Jim grabbed the nearest phaser he set his eyes on, grasping the weapon in his hand as he stormed out of the Bridge. Hot tears fell from his eyes and he made no move to wipe them away. He was above and beyond pissed off. _Fucking infuriated_ would be a better term. Bones ran after him, calling his out his hand as he walked onto the Transporter.

"What the hell are you going to do? They just… You can't go in there alone!"  
"Energize." Jim growled at the poor woman who sat at her station. Bones put his hand in front of her, stopping from sending Jim to his ultimate death.  
"You are _not_ going over there!"  
"I have to get him back, Bones!" Jim yelled back. "Let her do her damn job!"  
Bones stepped up, grabbing Jim's shirtfront, dragging him off the pad. "You're not going anywhere!" Jim brought his fist back, slamming it as hard as he could into Bones' stomach, letting the man double over. He hadn't meant for Bones to smack his face against the woman's workstation. Regardless, he got back on the Transporter, looking – er, glaring – at the woman. She quickly entered some coordinates and hit the Energize button.

In a flash of white, Jim was gone, leaving Bones swearing to himself as he tended to his bleeding mouth.

* * *

He was transported to an unfamiliar… who was he kidding? This entire ship was unrelentingly foreign to him. Jim blindly stormed into a place he knew nothing of, against a race he knew absolutely squat about.  
_Well, fuck._  
He had to get Spock though. That was his main priority, nothing else matter. If he had to kill ten men or ten thousand, he would do it and he would get Spock back to the ship. He was going to go as fast as he could, sticking to the shadows, going in the direction everybody else was moving. He kept his weapon hidden and himself mostly out of sight. Five minutes aboard, he had not shot anybody.  
"HEY!"  
Spoke too soon. Kirk whirled around, slamming his foot into his assailants' side, effectively making his smack his head into the steel girder jutting out from the wall. Jim pinned the man down, aiming his phaser at the middle of his forehead.  
"Where is the Bridge?" He snapped. The man, obviously very unaccustomed to fighting, pointed down the long hallway to the very end. Jim changed the phaser to _stun_ and gave him a quick jolt before running off as fast as he could do the Bridge.  
"Kirk to Enterprise, on my mark, two to beam up. Chekov, stay alert."  
_"Yes, Keptan,"_

Whatever was on the other side of those doors was going to fight back. He knew that, he was well aware he could die right along Spock's side. He was just going to have to risk it. He ran full speed onto their Bridge, immediately seeing Spock on the ground, convulsing. _Shit, shit, shit!_ "Chekov, NOW!" Jim yelled, ducking from the blasts that assaulted him, firing back to the best of his abilities. Jim and Spock began glowing, and his heart sang. He'd done it! No plan, just rushed in and—

A hot spear lanced through his chest at the very last moment aboard the enemy ship. They had made it, energizing back onto the Enterprise. Jim felt blood seeping down his chest and back, hot and sticky liquid that stained the front of his uniform. His eyes drifted up to familiar faces calling out his name as his body slumped, almost poetically, over Spock's.

* * *

_At least he had gotten some heroic battle scar out of it all. He didn't know where it came from, who threw it or any of that. All he knew was it speared through him like he was warm butter. Something smelled horrendous before he blacked out and he only assumed it was from the heated metal resting against his muscles and skin.  
"You are a damned fool, James Kirk!"  
He blinked, looking around, searching the darkness.  
"If you die on me, I swear to every god ever created I will find a way to bring you back so I can knock you off myself!"  
Pressure weighed down on his chest, letting up, repeating over and over. He heard somebody letting out a breath before the pressure continued._

_Wait a second._

His eyes fluttered opened, greeted with Bones above him, his fingers laced together over his heart, the edge of his palm pressed against his chest.  
"Jim?"  
"Mnph…"  
"I'm gonna kill you dead, kid. Just wait." Bones was pissed beyond all reason. Even in Jim's groggy, I-just-woke-up state he could tell. He went to push himself into a sitting position, but a burning sensation snaked its way from his chest to his brain, telling him to lay back down and to not move.  
"It was red hot. Like a fire poker, you know? Right through your dumbass self. Which was dumb on their part, since it coagulated all the blood that would have raced out of you if they had just left it a normal piece of scrap metal." Bones was rambling.

"Missed y' too, Bones." Jim mumbled.  
"He's alright, you know. Your little lovebird." Jim's eyes flew open and McCoy pointed to the bed across the room. "He lost a lot of blood, so I have to order a new stock of Vulcan type O before we go anywhere else. They're very primitive. Didn't even cut deep enough to sever anything major." McCoy was rinsing off his hands, shaking his head. "I hate the both of you right now. So much. So if you think about getting out of this bed, I don't care if it's on _fire_, I will pay you back for the cut on my lip and the bruise on my stomach. Got it?"  
Jim nodded, transfixed on the sleeping form across the room. He and Bones both knew Jim was going to get up as soon as the Doctor left the room, but for the moment he was going to humor him. As McCoy shuffled around the room doing different things on his PADD, Jim stayed quiet, sending wave after wave of thought towards Spock, with no reply. The guy was really out of it…  
"I'm leaving to call back for that blood. Don't move." Bones warned, waving his stylus at Jim. He walked out of sickbay, and before the doors had time to shut, Jim was up, padding over to the other bed.

Spock's palm was unusually cool as he took it in both of his hands, pressing his lips to it, closing his eyes.  
_Come back to me,_ he called out_; please I need to know you're okay for myself.  
With everything I have endured, I require much more rest than you are willing to give me._  
Jim let out a strangled noise into the man's hand, gripping it tighter. He couldn't contain the fresh tears that spilled down, and in the back of his mind he wondered how many times he had been reduced to a blubbering mess. Then again, he didn't care. He had his Spock back.  
_Your Spock._ Vulcan thoughts echoed in agreement.  
_I didn't know what to do. When I heard they took you, I… I just lost it._  
_Define "it"._ Spock felt his hand become damp. The urge to open his eyes was overcome by weariness, so he remained as he was.  
_My mind. I lost my mind. Then he… fuck, seeing him do that to you… and not knowing what you had to go through…_ His thoughts were mixing themselves together. There was so much he wanted to say but just couldn't form one coherent sentence.  
_Captain… Jim…_ Spock was trying to interrupt the onslaught of emotions. _T'hy'la, __**enough**__._ Jim's mind blanked._ We will discuss what happened aboard Ru'afo's ship. However both of us are in dire need of rest. I suggest you return to your bed and I promise I will be by your side when you wake.  
_Jim nodded against Spock's hand, kissing it repeatedly. _I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Know that._  
_I could never forget._


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: The last Chapter :D Because I just couldn't make it to ten and I wanted to finish. So. I got the good stuff :D Review? **

* * *

The next few days proved to be a challenge more so for Spock than Jim. While Jim suffered frequent heartburn and his stitches itching constantly, in his eyes it was nothing. Spock had stitches in a crescent-moon shape around the front of his throat. McCoy had to sedate him in order to reset his arm in the proper way and now had it lying over his chest in a very 21st-century looking sling. Several times Spock had awoken up from a deep sleep and just lay in his bed, eyes wide and panting. Jim was quickly at his side, rubbing his good hand in comfort. Words weren't enough anymore. Touch was what Spock needed; a gently contact to let him know he was back among friends.

Jim had sat down one day while Spock was awake and willing to share his experiences aboard the enemy craft. He hit the record button on his PADD and listened to every word, finding himself biting his lip to refrain from saying anything that would get recorded. Right now was professional, later it would be personal. Spock finished his recollection, eyes frantic but his face remained stoic. Jim turned off the recorder, stetting it aside.  
"You're home now." He whispered, given only a slight head bob in response. "I won't let _anybody_ do that ever again…" he dropped his voice, a low, warning tone edged its way into it. Jim took Spock's hand once more, pressing the tips of their index and middle fingers together. He felt the other man stiffen, drawing in a deep breath. Jim gazed up at him, meeting chocolate…. No, charcoal eyes. Spock's pupils had dilated to the point they engulfed all other color.  
"_T'hy'la…_" He said roughly. Jim knew what this did, but he needed Spock to know that he was among friends; nothing was going to harm him. A few heartbeats later, he pulled their hands away and leaned up, placing one hand above Spock's good shoulder, the other rested by the opposite hip. He leaned over, pressing his lips against Spock's own very gently before pulling away. The Vulcan tried to lean up, pursuing Jim's lips farther, but the extent of his injuries made him lay back down, his breathing had become heavier.  
"It is not nice to tease me," He huffed, grasping Jim's arm with his good hand.  
"That wasn't what I was goin' for." Jim descended on him once more, meeting his lips in a kiss that burned to his very soul. Spock's tongue eased its way past Jim's lips, exploring Jim's mouth like he had never done it before. Jim groaned softly, meeting Spock's tongue back thrust for thrust. His First Officer made a very low noise in his throat, drawing back slightly to whisper, "We are not alone," against Jim's newly-abused lips.  
Jim straightened just at Bones walked in the door, muttering to himself. He was busying himself talking to different nurses while Jim snuck back to his bed and climbed in.  
"Bones!" McCoy turned around, giving Jim a level stare.  
"What?"  
"When can Spock and I leave?"  
McCoy grunted, going over to scan Spock's body. "You were free to go as soon as I got done stitching you up, Jim. I want to keep Spock for a few days more to make sure his neck heals right." Jim made a dissatisfied sound, leaning back against his pillows. He met Spock's gaze and grinned at him, winking.  
"That's a shame. Because you know, we just got back together and—"  
"Dammit! I do not want to hear about how much you want to—" McCoy stopped himself, remembering there were other people around. He simply glared at Jim and snorted. "Two days."  
"Thank you, Bo-ones." Jim laughed in a sing-song tone.

* * *

The final two days of Spock's recovery were the easiest. He was resting with less discomfort, and his Vulcan genetics helped his shoulder heal a lot quicker than McCoy had anticipated. His stitches were taken out, a small, silvery-green line snaked its way around his neck, a very prominent reminder of what had happened. After a few words with Bones, Spock stood up, giving him deep thanks for all his efforts. McCoy nodded, clapping the man on the shoulder before heading off to finish all the workups he had done to send off to the Federation. Jim was waiting by the door, one hip rested against the wall, arms across his chest, for them to finish. Spock turned around, regarding the Captain with a tender look.  
"I am ready for duty whenever you will have me back, Captain."  
Jim scoffed. "We're not on duty until the day after tomorrow."  
"I see. Do you have something else in mind?"  
That grin came back and Spock's blood heated up, "I think I just might."

* * *

They walked to Jim's quarters in relative silence, listening to the hiss of the door as it slid shut behind them. Spock turned around to face Jim who had launched himself at the man, crashing into the hard wall of his chest, hugging him tightly. Spock returned the embrace gratefully.  
"Don't you _ever_ leave again."  
"It was not my choice."  
"I can't take you leaving. You're not allowed to leave here."  
"That's illogical, Captain. I cannot perform my du—" He was cut off by another promising kiss. Spock walked backwards, pressing Jim's back against the cold wall of his room, returning the kiss with earnest. His hand snaked up Jim's torso, resting at the nape of Jim's neck, tilting his head back slightly to get a better angle to deepen the kiss, melding their mouths together. Jim reached up, arms wrapping around the older man to pull him closer, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, hip to— _oh._ Of course they made no attempt to hide the obvious stimulation between them both. Quite the contrary, Jim lifted his hips, successfully grinding his ever-growing arousal against Spock's, moaning in contempt as Spock pulled away.  
"The bed would be most suitable for this kind of activity."  
Jim threw his shirt off to the side, kicking off his shoes and socks as he flopped back onto the bed, trying to rid himself of his pants. Spock shed his top as well, neatly placing his shoes and socks aside. _Well, no, no point in rushing or anything._ Jim criticized, watching Spock in amazement. Despite the injuries, leaving only a few darker green bruises littering his body, he was still as magnificent as ever. Jim half expected Spock to be weaker, more fragile looking. He was mouth-watering.  
"You are staring again." He commented, crawling over Jim's body to claim his mouth once again. Jim laced his fingers between Spock's, raising them above his head to have the Vulcan pin him down, hands by hands, hips by deliciously fantastic hips. Jim was throbbing in anticipation as Spock intentionally used his tongue to thrust in and out of his mouth, mimicking the actions they would be doing later. His grip tightened on the other's hands.  
Spock released one of his hands, keeping Jim's pinned down with one was a simple task. His free hand wandered through disheveled brown hair, down the slope of Jim's slender neck, to his collarbone, stopped momentarily to tease the hardened nipple on Jim's chest, knowing he enjoyed the stimulation just as much as Spock did. Jim was writhing underneath his touch, wanting more, craving it. Spock's hand was on a quest, so he pressed on, sliding his warm fingers down his abdomen to meet the light dusting of hair humans called the '_happy trail'_. His destination was just a bit farther, but he came to a very unwelcomed block. Jim still had his pants on.  
Well that just would not do.  
Spock knelt over Jim for a brief moment while the clothing was removed, tossed askew on the floor like everything else Jim owned. Their kiss broke. Long digits found their prize, a very ready, very nodding-in-approval erection. His mouth worked wonders on Jim's as his hands did the same below. He started slow, giving him a few gentle tugs before getting into a rhythm that had his Captain squirming beneath him, giving out little moans of consent. Spock felt the pulse of Jim's fluttering heart with his hands, letting Jim thrust his hips up restlessly. He didn't want to move his hand too fast; he wanted to savor the expressions crossing Jim's face. The _want_ that he showed so eloquently with his brows drawn together, his teeth clenched and those hands. Oh, those hands. He was gripping and unclenching them around Spock's own hand, and the sensation alone was enough to drive Spock completely mad, but right now it was Jim's time. His thumb caressed that bundle of nerves beneath Jim's swollen head, knowing full well that action alone could unravel his Captain faster than anything.  
Sure enough, Jim's hips slammed up against Spock's hand and he released an animalistic, guttural moan, spilling his seed all over his own stomach. Somewhere between the first _fuck_ and Spock's name being moaned, the Vulcan flipped the other man on to his stomach, lifting his hips just slightly. Spock rid himself of his pants grabbing the small bottle of lube sitting on Jim's nightstand, giving himself a generous amount not wanting to cause Jim any discomfort. Though… seeing the man writhing underneath him in post-orgasmic bliss, Spock could probably punch Jim in the face and would reel into another orgasm.  
After liberally coating himself in the slick oil, Spock pressed forward, his hips surging with a mind of their own forward, burying himself to the hilt. Jim cried out into the pillow, muscles tight around the hard intrusion that filled him to the breaking point. Spock's hips found a lazy rhythm, hitting Jim's prostate every few minutes, drawing out long moans from the human. Every sound that came from Jim went in through Vulcan ears, down his spine and straight to his erection making it throb persistently. He knew his own climax was imminent, but he was determined to make Jim Kirk come for him one last time.

He gripped Jim's hips in his strong hands, thrusting in all the way, hitting that sweet spot inside Jim, grinding against it, teasing him, torturing him. Jim was gasping for air, clutching at the sheets when his body stiffened and another ecstatic cry emulated from his mouth, spilling out of his lips like the most beautiful prayer Spock had ever heard. Muscles clamped down around the Vulcan's erection, throwing him into a mind-blowing orgasm that shook his body as he shot his seed deep into his T'hy'la.

A very long minute passed before Spock dislodged himself from Jim, falling onto his back, panting. Jim's lower body slid onto the mattress, shuddering when his sensitive cock met the cold sheets.  
"I should… get captured more often…" Spock commented, running his fingers through his tousled hair.

Jim turned his head into his pillow and laughed.


End file.
